


High Water Mark

by Amand_r



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M, auction fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-07
Updated: 2011-04-07
Packaged: 2017-10-17 17:31:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/179278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amand_r/pseuds/Amand_r
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two men. One bathtub. Mister Bubble. No dignity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	High Water Mark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [husiemama](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=husiemama).



> **Author's Notes:** Okay so this is for husiemama who snapped me up for the lightning round of help_haiti. She wanted Jack/Ianto sassy alone time. You got some, Missy!  
>  **Confession:** Sam gave me the title. Only slightly behind this was Anya's Grout Expectations.

"I think my exact words were, 'I _remember_ this being sexy'."

"I think when you said that, you were remembering times in a larger tub, possibly by yourself. Or with a smaller person." Ianto hunched over so that he didn't scrape his back on the tap. He scrunched his shoulders and tried to get as low to the waterline as possible, and the mountains of bubbles hid the lower half of his face. His knees poked out of the water, and he was sure that if he moved his feet up any further, they would encounter flesh that wasn't his.

Jack hung one leg over the side of the tub, water dripping from his toes, a tectonic plate of bubbles sliding down his leg to join with another, Pangaea right there on his calf, before it dripped onto the floor. "I think I might be remembering Pretty Woman, instead," he said, grinning and slipping down the back of the tilted tub wall. He frowned. "Is there something rough on the bottom?"

Ianto reached for the loofah. "Those would be the no-slip flowers the landlady put down in nineteen fifty-five." By now, Jack was taking up sixty-five percent and Ianto was getting thirty. The last five-percent was taken up by metal fixtures and soap scum. He didn't get to see the bottom of his tub this closely very often. The grout was actually rather frightening close-up.

Jack wiggled his arse and the water sloshed so violently that it hit Ianto's lowered face and went up his nose. "Why are we doing this again?" he said after spluttering in surprise and ramming his feet into the flesh of Jack's arse. Jack sat up and his leg flailed a bit and then he lost his grip and slipped totally down in the water as far as he could go until his head was under and his arse pushed Ianto back. Ianto felt his skin scrape off in between his shoulder blades when it grated against the lip of the tap.

It took a few seconds, but finally they sat across from each other, knees drawn, staring. Jack's face was damp, and Ianto rubbed his back, sure that his fingers would come away bloody, but they were clean. Okay, it just hurt.

"You know," Ianto said, raising a hand to look at the bubbles cascading down his arm. "I can't help but think that this…thing that I was talked into here was a romantic gesture that you sketched on paper in your head without thinking about physics. Or geometry."

Jack set his chin on his knees and smiled. "Of course I thought about it. You're not thinking outside the box."

Ianto raised and eyebrow. "I think I'd prefer to be thinking outside the tub."

"Is this the part where I say, 'Oh, Mister Jones, I prefer you not think at all'?" Jack reclined and hooked his leg over the tub edge again. "Because you know I find your brain devilishly sexy."

Ianto sighed. "'Devilishly sexy', how droll." Jack leaned forward and turned his face in his hands so that he could see himself in the mirror on the back of the door. Somehow all the splashing and humidity had curled some of his hair so that there were matching cowlicks protruding from either side of his head. "Huh."

Jack leaned back a third time and straightened his other leg, forcing Ianto to scoot the three free millimetres to the right. "Oh come off it and come here."

Ianto made a face. He could feel it on his skin, the way his muscles pulled and his tongue stuck out. Jack did the 'come hither, moron' fingers, bending his index and middle fingers at the largest joint and sighing loudly before Ianto raised himself up on his knees long enough for Jack to grab him, and he fell right on top of the man, almost a full body slam in some ways.

Jack made a grunting sound. "More graceful, was what I had in mind. That was too close to my junk."

Ianto rolled his eyes, but slid down and slightly to the side. If he bent his knees, and Jack shifted over just a little he could be pressed to Jack's chest a little, under his arm and sort of against his side. One of his arms was trapped in the manner of all trapped arms when curled up against someone, but his free hand rested on Jack, and he flipped his palm over to look at his fingertips while Jack manipulated his almost crushed tender parts with is other hand.

"Next time just trust me, and I won't have to force you."

"I can't help but notice that all the hurting happened to you," Ianto said dryly, and then licked a bit of soap bubbles from a nearby nipple. Jack sucked in a breath. "It's as if you should have learnt a life lesson from this."

Jack reached down in the water and groped for Ianto's cock, finding it semi-hard. "I'll have to try harder," he squeezed Ianto's cock and snickered while Ianto found his (it wasn't difficult; it was about a foot from Ianto's face), palming the softness to make it hard.

"What life lesson," Jack murmured, starting a new thread as he gasped when Ianto played idly with his foreskin. His hand squeezed mercilessly on Ianto's cock. Oh god, Jack knew him too well, Ianto thought, that he could do this, just this, and know he could bring him in short order.

"What life lesson," Jack continued thirty seconds later, still working Ianto and thrusting his hips as minutely as he could, which was pretty minute, seeing as how he was partially pinned down and horizontally wedged hip-wise into a small space. "Is this teaching me?"

Ianto bit a little at the skin in front of him as he ground his hips into Jack's side, into his hand, his own free hand hooked around Jack's neck for leverage, the hand underneath him curling its fingernails under the edge of a very old no-slip flower. He didn't have a ready answer for Jack and he certainly didn't care, not when the fingers on his dick were almost crushing and still they moved, and he tried to mimic the opposite of that with his hand, because he appreciated the appeal of simultaneous opposites sometimes.

All things said and done, a double handjob in a singlewide trailer of a bathtub with Jack was pretty much a satisfying end of the day, and he didn't have to clean up, because they were already in the water. He blinked lazily as Jack made more bubbles by shaking his hand in the water very quickly to rinse off, well--come on, Jack, semen wasn't that viscous.

"Does this bubble soap count as actual soap?" Ianto mused. He tried to remember where he would have got this. Had it been stashed in the back of the undersink? No, of course not. Lisa used to keep things like that, but she never lived here, she--

"You didn't bring this bubble bath with you, did you?" Ianto said. "I mean, of course you did. I don't have that kind of—"

Jack reached over the edge of the tub and pulled the bottle up to read the label. "I saw it in Boots. Mister Bubble." He winked at Ianto. "Mister. It's guy bubble bath."

Ianto decided that being on the sort of top was all right, but now his back was cold. He rocked them both to make the water wave up over his back. "I don't think that's what they mean by that."

Jack opened the bottle and let a rivulet of pink spill down into the water, where it could coil rope-like for a few seconds before dispersing. "Does it matter? Really? Here?" He drew a line of the pink soap on Ianto's upper arm and shoulder. "I mean, do you think your landlady knows, that right now we're in this bathtub, two grown men, and a bottle of…." Jack's voice drifted off, sailed out of his mouth through the room, and Ianto could almost catch it in his hand like a floating errant soap bubble.  
  
"No, Jack, it's not lubricant."

"He looks so jolly."

"He's jolly because he's for children, not because he's excited at the prospect of you using him as a sexual prop."

"I know, I was just thinking."

Ianto pressed his cheek into Jack's shoulder, now a little clammy from being wet and out of he water for so long. "This has been the most unproductive bath in history," he said. "No one was cleaned, no one was relaxed, and no one was warmed."

"Speak for yourself," Jack answered, snapping the lid to the bottle shut, tossing it all off onto the bathroom floor and using a flannel to rinse Ianto's shoulder. "That part is very clean."

"It was an important part, I wager," Ianto said around a yawn. He was going to fall asleep here, and for once, he couldn't drown, because there was no possible way he could slip under the water. Comforting thought, that, he decided as he closed his eyes.

Jack dipped the flannel and soaked it, and Ianto heard the steady drizzle of water as he pulled it out again, and then the warm sensation of it raining down on his cold, exposed back. Ianto curled his toes a little and shifted, his free arm resettling on Jack's chest. "All parts are important," Jack whispered, his hand moving to submerge the flannel again before he brought it up to pour down Ianto's skin a second time, and again, until Ianto lost track of it, and drifted, floating but grounded, cold but warm, dead but sleeping, and content, this time, for now, always content.

END


End file.
